


That Golden Time

by Ann7121



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-20 15:07:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16558064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ann7121/pseuds/Ann7121
Summary: An enforced trip to Freedon City stirs memories for Avon.





	That Golden Time

He hadn't wanted to come. That's probably why she had insisted. He'd tried to hide his disquiet from her but she was good at reading him or perhaps he just wasn't as adept at maintaining a poker face as he'd been before she had tortured him to the point where he had had to give in. Whether he'd have done so if he'd guessed she would keep him alive, a little puppet dangling on her string, he didn't know. His mind was too broken to remember clearly the man he'd been before Gauda Prime. What little he could recall came to him in flashes, unconnected scenes- he assumed they were from his past- some pleasant, others horrifying and bleak. Anything else he recalled she had fed him. Tales of those that betrayed him, of his failures, the deaths he had caused: little titbits, handed to him one at a time, each designed to cause him pain.

So given the blanks in his mind, it was a surprise to find himself reacting strongly when she told him she was taking him to Freedom City. He tasted it first, a memory of something creamy, sweet, his mouth watering with pleasure. Then a visual flash...a box of coloured lights, magically changing its size. A voice with a strange accent, "Ze Klute" whatever a Klute was. Finally a name, Vila, and a rush of emotions, regret, guilt but most of all affection. He hadn't wanted to know any more. She had no mercy and would only take him with her if she knew something that would change the memory forever and make him suffer. 

But now, as he sat in the ante chamber waiting for her to conclude her business with the painted, arthritic, old man she had come to meet, (a man who had regarded him with inexplicably glittering malice) a small cat surprised him by jumping confidently onto his lap and settling there, it's purr soothing, it's fur soft and warm. 

He sat there stroking it, at peace and yet sad; half glad that he couldn't recall why he should feel such a sense of absence in a place he had no memory of having visited, but which he knew was connected to a time when he had known fellowship and fun.

Soon, in unsparing detail, she would fill in the gaps in his memory for him and force him to relive them. But for now, there was just the cat's soothing purr and the softness and warmth of its fur.


End file.
